


come as you are

by AliuIce0814



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, M/M, Massage, Richie Tozier Cries During Sex, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier's Dick Doesn't Work, Top Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22811470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliuIce0814/pseuds/AliuIce0814
Summary: Richie can’t always get it up. Eddie doesn’t care.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 23
Kudos: 392





	come as you are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleBird20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBird20/gifts).



> CW: Richie has some form of erectile dysfunction in this fic. 
> 
> Wrote this for my wife, who's a fucking saint.

"I don't think I can tonight," Richie says when Eddie squeezes his thigh on the couch after work. They've been together long enough that Eddie understands what Richie means. It's not that Richie doesn't want to have sex; there's rarely a time when he's not ready to jump Eddie's bones. But Richie's dick isn't always in the game even when the rest of Richie is. 

This isn't even a forty-year-old Richie problem; it's just a Richie problem, always has been. He wishes he'd been with Eddie in college instead of a parade of impatient ladies and gents who took his weird dick personally. A few demanded outright: "What's the point in you having a huge dick if you can't even use it?" That one stings even twenty years later. But Eddie doesn't care whether Richie gets hard or not. All he cares is that Richie feels good. 

"Do you want to?" Eddie asks. There's something predatory about his expression that makes Richie swallow before he nods. "Then let me take care of you. Don't worry about the rest." 

Sometimes when Richie's like this, Eddie ties him up. It helps ground him when he's getting too far in his head. When Richie's dick wants to play, he sometimes jacks off to the memory of the first time Eddie took his soft dick into his mouth and sucked. Richie couldn't stop the tears or ashamed moans that came out of him until Eddie pulled off long enough to ask, "Does it feel good?" It had, it always did, whether Richie was hard or not. Eddie smiled at him. "Then just let it keep feeling good until you're ready for me to stop."

Now, Eddie pushes him into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. "Strip and lie on your stomach," he says. Richie takes off his clothes so fast that he trips over his jeans getting to the bed. Eddie snorts behind him. "Dumbass."

Richie flops face-first onto the bed. There's the shuffle of Eddie stripping, then the rattle of a drawer opening and closing. Richie swallows. "What are we doing tonight, Cap'n?"

"Nothing if you fucking say that again." Two bottles land on the bed beside Richie. One of them rolls until it's against his side. He yelps and squirms away from the cold plastic. The mattress dips. One of Eddie's hands presses between his shoulder blades. "Okay if I give you a massage?"

"Fuck yeah that's okay, are you serious?" Richie takes a moment to sternly tell himself not to do anything like start crying while Eddie's rubbing his back. He's not as bad about spontaneously tearing up now that they've been together for a while, but Eddie's occasional gentleness still gets to him. 

"Stay still," Eddie warns. A cap clicks open, and a viscous, sweet-smelling oil drizzles along Richie's spine. It warms up as Eddie smooths it into the muscles along his back. 

Eddie works methodically through all of the knots in Richie's back. He has a lot of them, the hazard of being a tall guy who isn't comfortable with himself. Some of them fucking hurt. When he whines, Eddie shushes him. "Good boy," he murmurs. Richie whines again and melts into the mattress. 

By the time Eddie reaches Richie's ass, Richie's half-asleep. He's almost forgotten what Eddie might want from him when Eddie's slick fingers brush along his crack. Richie jerks. 

"Shh, Rich, it's just me." Eddie's hand briefly leaves Richie's ass. Richie's about to complain when another lid clicks. His stomach swoops. He takes a deep breath and makes himself relax again just in time for one of Eddie's lubed fingers to brush against his hole. Just a gentle push forward, and Eddie's finger slides in easily, all the way past the second knuckle. 

"Fuck yes," Richie mumbles. Nothing feels urgent the way it does sometimes when he's hard. He feels warm and soft and open, and it doesn't surprise him at all when Eddie slips in a second finger right away. Richie closes his eyes and surrenders himself to the feeling of Eddie slowly stretching him out. After every few thrusts of his fingers, Eddie kisses along Richie’s back. 

Eddie fingers Richie for so long that Richie wonders if that’s all he’s going to do. He’s floating a little, only aware of his body where he’s stretched around Eddie’s fingers. Richie’s just about to ask Eddie what the plan is when Eddie’s hard, wet dick brushes against his thigh just below his ass. “Rich,” Eddie says, voice scratchy.” 

Richie smiles against the pillow. “Hell yeah, get in me, big boy.”

“You’re the worst.” Eddie pulls out his fingers and wipes excess lube on Richie’s ass, a sure sign that he’s annoyed. Richie bites down on a laugh and stretches. The sound of Eddie lubing up his dick makes him stretch again, almost preening. He can tell from every whining breath of Eddie’s that the view is good. 

The sound that emerges from Richie when Eddie slowly pushes into him is almost a sigh. He's definitely not getting hard, but pleasure burns in his belly as Eddie bottoms out. Eddie braces himself there, trembling. His lips brush the back of Richie's neck. "Okay?" 

"Mm, yeah," Richie says. He grinds slowly back against Eddie just to hear him moan. "Go ahead and fuck me."

Eddie takes it slow at first. He always does when Richie’s soft, no matter how many times Richie’s said he can just rail him. He moves in Richie smoothly; his tight grip on Richie’s hips is the only indication that he’s holding back. He rocks into Richie so gently for so long that Richie’s eyes drift shut again. Richie’s just full and warm with Eddie’s weight against his back. He’s nearly happily dozing when Eddie changes his angle and his dick catches Richie’s prostate. 

Richie groans into the pillow. He’s still soft against his thigh, but Eddie’s dick against his prostate is its own kind of unique pleasure. "There?" Eddie pants. Richie nods. Eddie nails him exactly right on his next thrust. 

Now that Eddie's figured out the best angle, he's relentless. He abandons his earlier care in favor of fucking him so hard that the bed creaks and Richie’s hands spasm against the sheets. Eddie’s always a little ruthless with Richie, willing to ignore Richie's need in favor of his own pleasure as long as Richie isn't using his safeword. Right now, Richie feels like a toy as Eddie grabs him by his hips and drags him back onto his cock.

Richie feels the tears build up. Normally, he would try to hide them, but like this there's no point. He's already raw, exposed, split open just for Eddie. When Eddie takes hold of his neck and tips his head back to look at his face, Richie lets the tears spill down his cheeks. "Green," he says before Eddie can ask. 

Eddie kisses Richie's cheek. "Good boy," he says, digging his fingers into Richie's neck. Richie gasps and shudders.

Something's building inside Richie as Eddie pushes endlessly into him. He finds himself whining, legs trembling like they do before he cums, except he's soft. He can't quite catch his breath after each one of Eddie's thrusts. "Ed, Eds, please," he says, grabbing Eddie's forearms where they're braced around him and gripping tight. "Eddie." 

Eddie shakes him off. Richie nearly cries harder until Eddie wraps one arm around him, still fucking him. The angle's deeper. With each thrust Richie is yelling. "Eddie. Eddie."

Eddie holds Richie to him with one arm, his chest pressed against Richie's sweaty back, fucking and fucking. He slowly shifts his balance, still moving in Richie. With his free hand, he reaches down and gingerly cups Richie's balls.

Richie fractures. For a horrible second, he thinks he's going to piss, the pressure is just so much, but then he realizes with a choked groan that he's coming soft. Eddie snarls like a fucking animal and yanks Richie upright so he's sitting on Eddie's lap. Eddie fucks him through it. With each thrust, another tiny bit of cum slips from his dick. Richie can't stop sobbing. His whole body shakes.

All at once it's too much. Richie reaches back and grabs Eddie's thigh, trying to wrangle his voice to say his word. But he doesn't have to. Eddie stops moving the second Richie's hand touches his thigh. "Okay," he says. He rubs one hand over Richie's heaving chest. "Okay, easy. Easy. I'm going to lay you down, okay? You did so good for me, Richie, pretty boy."

Richie chokes. "No."

"No, don't move you?" Eddie slowly adjusts his grip. "Or are you embarrassed?" Richie chokes again and nods. Eddie huffs in his ear. "Don't be. You were fucking beautiful, Rich. Did you know you could come like that?" Eddie leans forward, tipping Richie onto the bed. There's a horrible, stomach-lurching moment as he pulls out where it's just too much, Richie's too sensitive and can't muffle a cry, but then Eddie's out and Richie's lying on his side. Eddie nudges his shoulder. "Roll into your back for me."

It takes a second for Richie to process Eddie's words. When he rolls onto his back, Eddie's kneeling over him. He's flushed and pouring sweat, and his dick's hard and slick with lube and precum. Seeing his fussy Eddie all messed up makes Richie's heart squeeze tight. He closes his eyes against even more tears and silently reaches up for Eddie. 

Immediately, Eddie's holding him. "You're so good, holy fuck, Chee, I can't believe you came like that. Are you okay?"

Richie opens his eyes just enough so he can see Eddie's face before he kisses him. Richie's trembling, but he has just enough control to kiss every inch of Eddie's face. It's a sign of how much Eddie loves Richie that he's letting him get snot and tears all over his face and isn't saying a word. 

Richie settles in the warmth of Eddie's arms. He opens his mouth to say "thank you" or "love you" or maybe "you've got a great dick, Spaghetti." What comes out is "You should cum on my face."

Eddie splutters. "What? No, I'm not going to cum on your face, you absolute dumbass," he snaps. "We don't go ass to mouth! You know that."

"It's not my mouth, it's my face," Richie protests. 

"Your mouth is on your face," Eddie groans. Richie starts laughing, but halfway through it morphs into tears. He scrubs at his face, trying to kill them because Jesus, he's 40, he needs to stop crying during sex. Eddie grabs his hands and kisses them, gentle again. "Hey, shhh, come on, settle a little for me. There you go. You want me to cum on you?" Richie nods quickly. Even with blurry eyes, he catches Eddie's little smirk. "I'll cum on you. Just not on your face, you fucking pervert. Ass-to-mouth, for fuck's sake." Eddie's voice trails into a breathy sound when Richie wraps a hand around his dick and starts jacking him. "Ohhhh fuck. Yeah, yeah, it's not gonna take much."

"Almost came in me earlier?" Richie asks hopefully. 

"Yes," Eddie gasps against Richie's mouth. 

"Tell me?" Richie isn't above begging. Hearing Eddie talk dirty while he unravels in his hand is one of the highest highs he's ever felt, and that includes his brief stint on cocaine in the 90s. 

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, "wanted to fill you up, Rich, you're so fucking hot inside. You were so loose tonight, you let me finger you so long. I can't believe you came soft." Richie throws his free hand over his face, but Eddie grabs his wrist and drags it back so Richie's red, tear-stained face is exposed. "I would be proud of you if you'd just taken it, but you got cum all over yourself. You're so filthy. You're so good."

Richie whines. He's worn out -- even if he had managed to get hard, he wouldn't have been able to go two rounds -- but Eddie calling him 'good' gets his chest all twisted up. "Make me filthier," he says. "Please."

"Almost," Eddie says. He falls silent the way he does when he's close. Richie tips his head forward until they're eye to eye, nose to nose, just breathing each other's air, and what a fucking privilege it is to be the only person allowed close enough to share Eddie Kaspbrak's air. Richie's hand is slick with lube and precum. The sound of him jacking Eddie drowns out everything else. 

When Eddie's mouth drops open, Richie knows what's coming. "Yes, please, on me, on me--"

"Tip your head back," Eddie grits out. Richie obeys. A second later, Eddie's cum splashes on his stomach and chest. As Eddie groans and shakes, some of his cum even catches Richie under the chin. Richie yelps. 

Eddie crumples on top of him. "Fuck." His dick twitches one more time where it's pressed between their stomachs. Richie holds himself still. All he wants to do is wrap his arms around Eddie again and hold him until they both pass out, but he knows enough to wait. If he tries to grab Eddie with cum and lube on his hand, Eddie will definitely throw him in the shower. 

Eddie's chapped lips brush against Richie's cheek. "Shit, Tozier."

Richie swallows. "Yeah?"

Eddie kisses him again. "Yeah. You okay?"

"I love you."

Eddie makes a small pleased sound. "I know."

"Wanna hold you." Richie’s still on the verge of tears -- at this point, he’s realized that he’s going to spend most of his life with Eddie on the edge of happy, overwhelmed tears. He wants to wrap his arms and legs around Eddie and keep him close. He wants to kiss the scar tissue on Eddie’s back and chest and rock him until he falls asleep. He’s so disgustingly in love with this fussy, stubborn man. His Eddie. 

Eddie squints at Richie. Richie lies still and watches Eddie’s eyes roam over where Eddie’s cum is drying on his chest hair and Richie’s cum is sticking to his stomach and his thighs. When Eddie wrinkles his nose, Richie has to grab the sheets to keep from reaching out and tweaking it. “Shower first.”

Richie groans. “Come on.”

“We’re both disgusting. Get up.” Eddie nudges Richie’s shoulder. Richie scowls at him. Eddie scowls right back before sighing and offering, “If we rinse off, I’ll run a bath and let you hold me.”   


Richie beams. “You’re the best, Eddie Spaghetti.” 

Even though Eddie groans and hits him in the face with a pillow, Richie’s pretty sure Eddie thinks he’s the best, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> me: is it too much of a pun if i call it "come as you are"  
> wife: cackles


End file.
